


she's the goat

by truthbealiar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It's Very Very Vague, but like, it's theon, overuse of italics and hypens, overuse of the word fuck, overuse of the word literally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 23:10:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19037431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthbealiar/pseuds/truthbealiar
Summary: THEON:Babe, I’m willing to do a lot for you, but not this.THEON:I’ve grown as a person since you’ve seen me last.THEON:I have a conscience now.ROBB:Um???ROBB:I saw you three hours ago?ROBB:Also you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair?- or -“I’m hiding in here. By the way.”“You’re hiding in here. With a goat.”





	she's the goat

**Author's Note:**

> prompt:
> 
> theonsa + university shenanigans

**THEON:** Babe, I’m willing to do a lot for you, but not this.

 **THEON:** I’ve grown as a person since you’ve seen me last.

 **THEON:** I have a conscience now.

 **ROBB:** Um???

 **ROBB:** I saw you three hours ago?

 **ROBB:** Also you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair?

 **THEON:** Oh fuck _off_ with the John Mulaney quotes. I hate Jon for making you watch him.

 **ROBB:** It’s like his duty. I’m pretty sure John Mulaney is the only successful English major, so Jon needs someone to look up to.

 **THEON:** Literally how the fuck did you land Margaery?

 **THEON:** Speaking of whom, I’m not willing to help you cheat on her.

 **ROBB:** Did you use ‘whom’ correctly? God how stoned are you?

 **ROBB:** And excuse??? The fuck??? You dare???

 **THEON:** ??? You literally texted me “So there’s this girl…”

 **ROBB:** For JON, but go off I guess

 **ROBB:** Also don’t fucking play like you’re suddenly honor bound.

 **ROBB:** You’re just terrified of my girlfriend

 **THEON:** Also true, but she’s not special. I’m terrified of a lot.

 **ROBB:** You’re a lot.

 **ROBB:** But are you going to help or not?

* * *

 

In Theon's _defense_ he hadn't really expected his night to wind up like this.

On the other hand - and why the _fuck_ was he debating the other side, when he was _literally_ talking to himself in his head, and trying to _defend_ himself? - he should have known that nothing good was going to come out of tonight. Sure, he hadn't expected to wind up in Sansa fucking Stark's dorm room wearing nothing but skin tight swim shorts and holding a goat in his arms, but honestly, he should have expected something along those lines, considering that Robb had texted him about a girl.

(The last time Robb had texted Theon those words they had wound up drunk at a bar, where the girl in question had convinced the two of them that the circle of life meant that every time someone died, their spirit was put into whatever being was born at the exact moment of their death.

Bran had been forced to come rescue them, and he was the one who had convinced them - when they were _sober_ \- that he was occasionally possessed by a raven with three eyes.)

Theon had fucking _known_ better, but he was in a shitty mood, because had received his financial accounting exam back, and he had done abysmally well, thereby destroying his dreams of being kicked out of the business program, and god forbid doing something he _actually_ cared about instead, like teaching seven year olds how to tie their fucking shoes and how to read an analog clock. It was fucking _tragic_ and Theon Greyjoy was the only person for the job, but if his father found out about all the early childhood development classes he'd been taking, he would have bigger problems than the one he had currently found himself in.

Which was...yeah, it was a problem.

Not only because he was standing in the middle of Sansa Stark's bedroom, as previously mentioned, but because she was sitting cross legged on her bed - and _fuck_ crossing her legs did nothing to hide just how fucking long they were - wearing nothing but a long-sleeved Winterfell University shirt that was too big for her. Theon reckoned it might have been Robb's, which honestly just made her kind of hotter. He probably ought to do some serious self-reflection, or at the very least, talk to Sam about it. But Theon was comfortable with his level of fucked up, and Sam was only any good at psychoanalyzing someone when he had at least two joints. Theon would rather just smoke the joints himself.

Even worse than what she was wearing - which, really all Theon could think about was removing her clothes - was the wide eyed stare Sansa was currently fixing him with. Her eyes were already so fucking wide and blue. It should literally be illegal. At the very least, against the fucking handbook. Theon hadn't been aware that the school _had_ a handbook until Jon had brought it up at some point - fucker probably jerked off to it, fucking _weirdo_ \- but they did, and he was fairly certain that Sansa Stark's big blue Disney princess eyes were violating some sort of obscure rule. Jon had already pointed out a handful of small clauses that Theon would be mildly concerned about, if he ever managed to think about something other than Sansa fucking stark. Which he didn't exactly manage often. Which brought him to his current problem.

“You’re lucky my roommate isn’t here.”

Theon blanched. Good god, Theon would literally never hear the end of it if Margaery had been in here. As it was, she was probably already smirking at his expense from wherever she was. Robb’s girlfriend was terrifying, and insanely omniscient. She was the only one who could actually rival Bran Stark - and that little asshole was an actual psychic, Theon refused to believe differently. She probably had some innate sense for things like this.

This being the fact that Theon was stupidly in love with her best friend, who was currently wearing only a long-sleeved shirt and panties, and _not_ tiny shorts like Theon had previously assumed.

God he was hyperventilating.

“This is all Robb’s fault.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Well obviously.”

“Also a bit Jon’s. He’s into this girl now.” Sansa’s eyes lit up, but Theon barreled forward. It was Marge’s job to keep her up to date on the gossip. Also, Theon didn’t actually know who the girl was. “And apparently she wanted to do this G.O.A.T. yoga. All of the signs were advertising it in the student commons.”

Sansa nodded along, as if all of this was making perfect sense. Theon could have kissed her then and there. He could have kissed her just about any time of day. Thing was, he never did. Fucking coward.

“Well, G.O.A.T. yoga took itself a little too seriously. They had actual goats.” Theon paused dramatically, waiting for Sansa’s reaction. When the expected surprise never came, Theon’s brow furrowed. “Who has goats at yoga?”

“Um. Well it is goat yoga? I’m...perplexed by your confusion here Theon.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well yeah, but like, greatest of all time yoga. Like Gregor Clegane is the greatest of all time.”

At that, Sansa sat up straighter. “Setting aside your _blatant_ disrespect as sheer _ignorance_ , and praying that you aren’t serious, considering that Sandor is _by far_ the superior Clegane, goat yoga is actually a thing. It’s not G.O.A.T. yoga. It’s literally yoga with goats.”

Theon’s eyes darkened - gods Sansa was hot when she talked sports. She was hot all of the time, but now Theon was imagining fucking her in a jersey, and nothing else. When wasn’t he imagining fucking Sansa, honestly though? His fantasies were rarely that original - they just featured Sansa.

(He wasn’t Pod. Poor fucker actually admitted - while drunk off his ass - that he had once created an entire Dungeons & Dragons level fantasy, complete with actual dice and a dungeon master - not in a kinky way. But Pod had also had a threesome, so needless to say Robb, Theon, Jon, _and_ Sam had all shown up to Pod’s the next time he invited them to try D&D.)

“The flyers _clearly_ were marked as G.O.A.T. As in the letters of ‘goat’ spelled out, with periods in between each one.” Theon was growing a bit agitated, but that might have more to do with the goat that was currently squirming in his arms.

“Theon. It’s goat yoga. I promise. It does _not_ stand for ‘greatest of all time’.”

Theon gaped at her. “Then why the _fuck_ would they put fucking periods in?” Sansa burst out laughing, and the goat bleated angrily in his arms, and tried to kick out. “No, honestly. You’re the marketing guru here. You have to know how to make posters and shit for communications, right? Haven’t you taken a class on advertising yet? Surely you know that’s a fucking stupid thing to do?”

Sansa frowned. “I’m an agricultural economics major.”

Theon stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. “Robb told me you were doing communications!”

She snorted. “Robb doesn’t even know what major _he_ is.”

Which - fair fucking point.

But also -

“God that’s hot.”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose even higher - if possible - and Theon felt himself wanting to sink into the ground even more - if possible.

“There’s...literally _nothing_ remotely hot about my major,” Sansa said slowly. “There is an incredible dearth of ‘sexy agricultural economist’ costumes. Not even on Etsy. I’ve checked.” She said this so primly and matter-of-fact, that Theon had to do a double take, before realizing she was absolutely serious. Meaning she had been searching for sexy costumes.

Sansa did the incredible thing - okay, every fucking thing she did was incredible, but this was actually supernatural or some shit - where she _read his fucking mind_ and said, “Halloween is just around the corner.”

And wasn’t that a fucking glorious thought, Sansa Stark in a sexy Halloween costume? God, Theon was already half hard thinking of it, but he was holding a goat, and that felt vaguely sacrilegious. Or something. Theon worshiped the Drowned God, but he was pretty sure one of the faiths had something to do with goats. Point was, it was a highly inconvenient time for this problem to _arise_.

“You could wear whatever you want, you’re the sexy part.”

Sansa’s lips quirked into a smile, and it was enough to halt Theon’s impressive attempts at kicking himself with his own mind. Or maybe he should just call up Arya, and ask her to do it for him. Come to think of it, he actually had an unending list of fierce women who would happily kick his ass. Speaking of -

“I’m hiding in here. By the way.” Theon blurted out the words, knowing that he was making less sense the longer he stayed in the presence of Sansa. It was a casualty of proximity, but frankly, since it was her fucking fault, she should be used to it. Even Dr. Lannister had been rendered speechless by her, and the man never fucking shut his mouth. Thank god he was head over heels for Dr. Tarth, because oh gods, Theon couldn’t compete with a smug, blonde asshole. It was exactly Sansa’s unfortunate type.

Not that Theon was really in competition. He was quite content pining from afar.

“You’re hiding in here. With a goat.”

But really, what sort of questions could even be asked? No, truly, what the fuck was a beautiful young co-ed supposed to say to her older brother’s best friend, who was currently dressed in indecently tight swim shorts that Loras had given him as a gag gift last Christmas, that had the words ‘OLYMPIC GOLD’ printed in large blocky letters across his ass, clutching a squalling goat to his chest? It was like a fucking Renaissance painting - one that Sansa had better just accept and move on.

Really, Theon was far too sober for any of the night’s events to be remotely justifiable.

“Well, I already explained the G.O.A.T. yoga.”

“Goat yoga, and yes, go on.” God, she could hear the periods that Theon put in the word. He needed to fucking marry her. Maybe he should ask Gendry for advice. Sure, the man had literally proposed to the girl who took his virginity - approximately two hours after said deflowering took place - but Arya hadn’t killed him. Plus, the two fucked off to Vegas to actually _get married_ \- and Theon was still holding onto that tidbit for the opportune blackmail moment - so clearly he had gotten the whole desperation angle to work for him. And since Theon had significantly less than what Gendry was working with, he felt like he definitely had more desperation than his hopefully future brother-in-law.

“So we were there for the girl. Jon’s girl. But like...Dany was there too.” Honestly, that should have been enough information, but Sansa’s face was still carefully blank. “She had a _goat_ Sansa. Dany.” She still wasn’t seeing the problem. “Daenerys Targaryen! She had a goat! I had to save him!”

“You do realize that Dany is the president of the ASCPA chapter here? She literally spends her Tuesdays trying to get people to sign pledges to go vegan. On Saturday she hosted the rally to protest the poaching of lizard lions. Theon you were _there_!”

Okay. That was technically a fair point.

Counter: Sansa had _also_ been there, and she had been wearing thigh high boots paired with a long-sleeved dress that left Theon uncomfortably hard for the rest of the rally, and completely oblivious to whatever was happening around him.

“I mean, I didn’t think she was going to _hurt_ the goat.” Now that Theon’s mind was a little clearer, he could see how ridiculous the idea had been. Dany did seem particularly attached to animals, and she seemed compassionate enough. She had zero regard for Theon’s mental health, considering how many times Theon had tried to stop by Yara’s for some decent fucking food, only to hear through the ridiculously _thin_ walls, Dany screaming something about riding a dragon. Complete with his sister’s moans that were honestly more traumatizing than his childhood.

Fuck, he was probably going to blab that to Dr. Tarth on Monday, and she would start analyzing his relationship with his sister, make him cry, and gently scold him for trivializing his actual shitshow of a childhood. But whatever, it was a coping method, and it was _his_.

“Then what _did_ you think?”

“Er,” Theon scratched the back of his head, which was a habit, and which looked effortlessly _cool_ \- a fact Theon _knew_ , because he swore up and down he saw Sansa’s eyes darken a little - except it wasn’t quite as effortless or as cool, because he was still holding a fucking goat. “I may have been concerned that she was going to do some sort of ritualistic blood sacrifice that involved fire, a goat’s blood, and the full moon.”

Sansa stared at him, mouth open, for a full sixty seconds. It was terrible, because it gave Theon ample time to think about everything he’d like to do with that mouth and - _fuck_.

“Theon, have you been watching Riverdale alone again?”

Theon pouted.

“Robb has an evening class now, and Jon only likes period dramas.” Sansa also liked period dramas, and being classy and high brow with Jon. But she also watched women’s wrestling with Arya, and Spanish telenovelas with Rickon, and getting wine drunk and watching trashy reality television with Bran. And of course, Riverdale with Robb and Theon.

“Well why didn’t you ask me to watch it with you?”

Theon’s brain was currently short-circuiting. There wasn’t really a decent response to that, considering the answer - _“I’m so fucking in love with you, and I may have already picked out the tie I’ll wear at our wedding, but also I want to fuck you a dozen ways into next Saturday, but also I want to sit down and talk mortgages and student loans with you,”_ \- sounded fucking insane, and Theon wasn’t about to blow the best relationship he’d ever had. Even though their relationship consisted of Sansa being his best friend’s little sister.

Too impatient for Theon to answer, Sansa rolled her eyes, and began pushing books off of her bed, reaching for her laptop. “Theon, put the damn goat down, and get over here.”

He was maybe hyperventilating. He was pretty sure this was how most porn videos in a college setting began. Which - hey, he wasn’t complaining.

Taking a seat on Sansa’s bed, tentatively, he watched as she booted up her laptop, willing his heart not to skip a beat when he realized that her wallpaper was a picture of the time Theon had grabbed her round the waist and spun her wildly at the pumpkin patch, in the middle of a cornfield. It had been a disastrous outing, in which the Starks had discovered that Bran had hay fever, Jon had spent a literal _hour_ picking a pumpkin, Robb had cried when he thought of all the awkward looking pumpkins that wouldn’t be selected - and then tried to take _all_ of them - and Rickon and Arya had brought a godsawful mask so they could take turns scaring the living shit out of people in the corn maze. Gendry had also cried.

But Sansa had looked so lovely, with her cheeks flushed, and her eyes shining bright, that Theon hadn’t been able to stop himself. He had just reached over and started swinging her around, delighting in her shrieking giggles. By the time he had realized that Catelyn was taking pictures, he was too drunk on Sansa’s happiness to care.

The loud _dun-dun_ of Netflix startled Theon out of his thoughts, and he glanced at Sansa, who was looking at him with the sort of tenderness that made him feel like she was performing the softest, most delicate vivisection known to man. He felt bare, but he still couldn’t look away from her Disney princess eyes.

(Seriously, it was incredible that there wasn’t a brightly colored animated musical about her. Then again, all of the things Theon imagined doing with her were _not_ appropriate for children, and _yes_ , Theon would of course be cast as her Prince Charming.

Suck it Jaime Lannister.)

“Hey. Any time you want to watch, just call. Seriously Theon. I’m right here.”

Theon swallowed, and nodded, and watched the small smile drift across Sansa’s lips. He longed to reach out and touch it - with his fingers, his lips, _anything_ \- but it wasn’t the time. Theon knew that. People could say what they wanted about him - and fucking _hell_ there was plenty someone could say - but he had a good sense of timing. He wasn’t just waiting for some elusive, obscure ‘right moment’. But he was waiting all the same.

For now, Theon planned to do nothing more than curl up with his best friend’s younger sister, and watch the terrible teen soap opera on Netflix, while chilling, and decidedly _not_ Netflix and chilling. And Theon knew there was every chance in the world that he would fall asleep in this bed, and he knew it was equally likely that Theon would spend all morning lazily kissing Sansa Stark if she allowed it, which - yeah, he kind of thought she might. But those were all maybes, and Theon never planned a fucking thing in his life.

The goat currently lying on the floor of Sansa’s bedroom was testament to that.

* * *

 

 **MARGAERY:** [image]. Oh my god. Can you actually believe these two?

 **ROBB:** What the fuck?

 **ARYA:** fucking bless

 **GENDRY:** Is that a goat?

 **JON:** When Theon wakes up, please flip him off for me.

 **MARGAERY:** With pleasure.

 **ARYA:** did they plan this?

 **JON:** Please, Theon doesn’t make plans. Speaking of which, Marge, on second thought, please pour ice cold water over him to wake him up.

 **ARYA:** why do you text with punctuation???

 **JON:** I’m an English major. It’s practically required.

 **ARYA:** is it also required for you to be a little bitch?

 **ROBB:** BURN

 **ROBB:** But seriously guys. Why the fuck are Sansa and Theon cuddling with their eyes closed?

 **MARGAERY:** It’s called sleeping dear.

 **ARYA:** literally every fanfic i’ve read starts with this

 **JON:** If you’re going to use the word ‘literally’, please use it correctly

 **MARGAERY:** Oh sweetling. Every fanfic I’ve _written_ starts with this.

 **ARYA:** jon i will l i t e r a l l y kill you

 **ARYA:** and links or it didn’t happen marge

 **MARGAERY:** [link]

 **ARYA:** fuck me up, bedsharing and enemies to lovers

 **MARGAERY:** I love this fic more than your brother

 **ROBB:** Wait...I thought that was the one where the characters are banging? Like literally all the time????

 **JON:** For the love of the gods, please use literally correctly

 **ROBB:** You only care about grammar this much when you get laid, so Theon and I say you’re welcome

 **ARYA:** speaking of theon and getting laid last night…

 **ROBB:** WHAT IS GOING ON?

 **GENDRY:** Is no one seriously going to talk about the goat?

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> literally what the fuck is this? idek, but i had a blast writing it. i don't do comedy a lot, and i'm not great at it, but honestly theon is so ridiculous in my mind that this pretty much wrote itself! let me know what you think! come scream with me about the queen in the north on [tumblr](http://joygreys.tumblr.com/)


End file.
